


Let Him In

by Lovelylita



Category: Låt den rätte komma in | Let the Right One In - John Ajvide Lindqvist, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Bad English So Please Let Me Know Of Mistakes, Blood and Violence, Bullying, Canon-Typical Violence, Christian Character, Christianity, Consensual Underage Sex, Demonic Cultivation Used for Vampire Needs, Gay Sex, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Horror, Human/Vampire Relationship, Implied/Referenced Pedophilia, M/M, Not Beta Read, OOC Xiao Xingchen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation, Religious Conflict, Set in fictional China, Shame, Xiao Xingchen is a Bit Not Good, Xue Yang is a Vampire, other characters might be added later, set in the eighties
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovelylita/pseuds/Lovelylita
Summary: ~*~ A series of murders are happening right next to him, but Xingchen is too fascinated by his new neighbor, who somehow knows who he was in past reincarnations... ~*~**XueXiaofusionwith 'Let the Right One In' (book and movie) and Let Me In (movie)**Attention:read the tags. Second chapter was not revised or betaed, please let me know of any mistakes, I would be happy to know how to write it better.
Relationships: Xiǎo Xīngchén/Xuē Yáng | Xuē Chéngměi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 29





	1. 1

.

PROLOGUE

Water was getting inside his nostrils but he didn’t fight back, just like every time he had been abused by that gang and got his head 'baptized' (the blasphemy!). He once again stopped breathing. Just like the other times. The only useful lesson he learned when he was trying to learn how to swim was to control his breathing. It was somehow better this way, to have his head inside the toilet bowl and only hear the sound of the flushing, since the smell —fortunately the thing was clean this time— could no longer be sensed. Yes, that way Xingchen couldn’t hear their laughter, and he could survive this. He would survive this. Once again.

“Stupid, stinky egg!” Wen Chao's hoarse voice made Xingchen wish they were still pushing his head and trying to kill him, when the boy pulled his head back. A boy almost one year younger than him, but so much stronger, and in so many ways.

Xingchen was a coward. Still a coward. That would change someday. One day he would be another person, inside another body.

“Look, his nose’s still bleeding, gross...” said Liu Wei, the pretty boy who only followed Wen Chao’s lead because he feared being treated the same way. Feared being called 'a fucking fag'.

Still Xingchen couldn't fight back, he had to stand there listening to them, hating them, just imagining. One day... One day… Xingchen would break them and cut them into pieces and feed some hungry dogs.

While he was being beaten inside the bathroom —door supervised by another, Wang Shu— he felt an excruciating pain inside his ear. He opened his eyes a little bit and saw Wang Shu against the door, undecided. He was still the best of them, the one who had been almost a friend, when they were eleven. But a-Shu had also changed. They all had changed with puberty.

“Squeal like a pig, stupid fag! Egg face! Squeal like a pig!” Wen Chao was shouting.

How could no one hear him? How could no one come and rescue Xingchen? No, he didn’t need a rescuer, he had to plan his revenge. He was smart, he could do it and no one would know. The pain in his ear was almost gone, and he could hear his own sounds. Fear made people make strange sounds.

Tears were now dropping from his eyes, tears of frustration with his own body, his weak body, his cowardice. If only he had a gun… Or a knife. Or an electric saw, like that man in last week’s newspaper.

Imagining…

It was hard to imagine it was only a scene from one of his favorite shows, the superhero pretending to be weak, only to cut his enemies’ throats and let them bleed, begging to live.

Let them bleed.

He squealed. He squealed louder this time.

“Louder! Louder, squeal louder, or else everybody will know you sucked my dick so hard it is now all red… You hurt me. What are your church friends going to think about this?” Wen Chao whispered in his ear. But Xingchen knew he was getting tired and the show was ending.

That fucking liar. His lies were always in the end, when he was getting bored.

So much contempt for himself... But he squealed. The other boys knew Wen Chao wouldn't do it, wouldn't tell lies like that, but they also knew —just like Xingchen knew— the hatred that awful boy was carrying inside him, because his mother had been almost murdered, and one of the suspects was his own father.

That didn’t make Xingchen feel any pity for that bastard, though.

“Loudeeeeeer….” he screamed in his ear, punching it again, making Xingchen scream.

“Let’s go, a-Chao, there are people coming, and I have to go home…” said one of them, Xingchen unsure who it was, the pain making him dizzy.

And they left.

He was bleeding from his nose, as always, but now from his ear too. Stumbling, trying to cope with the pain, he forced himself up, grabbing the sink, turning on the faucet, avoiding his own face in the broken mirror.

Broken mirrors: they bring bad luck.

And Xingchen already had too much bad luck.

There was no soap but he managed to get rid of the toilet water. Putting his nose right underneath the faucet felt good for a while but soon the washbasin was leaking: the boys had clogged all of them.

Xingchen was now able to stand and he furtively looked into the broken mirror, asking silently for forgiveness.

All he could see was a sixteen-year-old boy that was too thin, too weak, too mean.

Yes, he was mean, and they could sense it... That was the reason the boys hated him, even though they claimed he was a ‘homo’, and they hated ‘homos’. Somehow they knew he was capable of killing, but they also knew he was such a coward.

“I am a coward...” he told himself in the mirror, checking his ear. It was still bleeding, as was his nose.

There was toilet paper in his backpack, as well as soap. And a clean towel.

Survivor tools.

It was not the right time. One day he would get his revenge, he would make them all bleed and beg. Now he had to clean his face, put some paper inside his ear, and hurry up. By this time, they were all gone and he would only face the drunk man who lived near his school, and slept in the forest. Maybe not even him, if he didn’t pay too much attention.

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that he would have to shower again when arriving home, even though he showered in the morning. It didn’t matter that he would have to lie again to his grandma. Xingchen hated lies but no one deserved to know their grandson was a weak, mean boy.

He was almost home when he saw the moving truck. It was already dark, so he entered the building quickly, trying to rehearse the lie so it would sound like truth. He couldn't hear very well from the injured ear, though, and this time he might say some other lies.

When he arrived home, there was only a piece of paper under the telephone, a note saying his grandma would arrive later. Xingchen opened the cabinet looking for some painkillers. Maybe he wouldn't have to tell her anything. Still a bit wary, he looked out of the window and saw the man that had arrived with few furniture putting up thick curtains, and, seeming not very pleased, covered the bathroom windows with cardboard.

That was something new, he had never seen someone so worried about hiding away from a neighbor's eyes. It was only then that he realized that apartment was right next to his. _A weird neighbor, great!_ he thought, sighing.

If only that man was young like him, or had a son or daughter his age. He needed a friend.

But Xingchen had already given up the possibility of having a friend. Nobody wanted to be seen by his side, especially people from school, who knew how much Wen Chao's gang hated him.

He took a look again, and could see two shadows in the kitchen. The man and his wife, perhaps? It looked like a female figure, with long hair... And they were arguing but Xingchen could hear only the man. Hearing loss? Maybe his inner ear was damaged? How would he explain that to his grandma?

Xingchen gulped. That season was going to be another terrible Winter.

.


	2. Chapter 2

He hadn’t eaten last night. Grandma was restless and Xingchen knew that she was worried about his health, but also very worried about one of her friends who disappeared.

Disappeared just like his father did.

In a way, that was his perfect excuse to stay at home, in bed. He had told her that he had fallen down the stairs at school, and she only believed in him because she was worried about her friends from ‘church’.

When she finally left for work, he got out of bed and began to look at his face.

It was a mess.

Anger was something bad that could lead someone to the devil, or so he was told. Hell was full of people who couldn't forgive and let anger drive their will.

Xingchen sighed, feeling his inner ear hurt from time to time, even though he took so many painkillers. He grabbed a chocolate from his wardrobe and ate it slowly, thinking.

Being a coward was easy, but one day that should stop. In no way people would be able to do this to him at work, or, if he were lucky, at college.

He spent a long time studying everything that he might have missed at school that day, then he did his homework. Only after that he opened his secret place: a loose floorboard under his bed. Inside it, he found his treasures, among them his favorite thing, a scrapbook where he meticulously placed all news he usually found in neighbors' garbage, the weekly magazines articles. There were also many newspaper news, all of them related to murder.

He used to glue them when he was young, but now he made plastic pockets so he could remove the news from time to time, observing a picture much better. With the plastic, he could protect his treasure a little more. Sometimes he liked to slide his fingers over some nouns.

It was fascinating. He could spend all day reading those stories, over and over, filling in the blank spaces with his own imagination, the gruesome aspects of the stabbing, the blood being splashed everywhere. It was nice, he felt stronger when he read how much human beings were fragile, some voices silenced forever because someone was brave enough to destroy them.

Xingchen hid the scrapbook and rested in bed for a while, imagining… If only he could be like one of those murderers! He would love to torture Wen Chao, kill him very slowly. The first thing he would do... He would remove his dick, cutting it out. Even though he didn’t know if that was possible, he would like to insert it inside Wen Chao’s ass. Maybe with special tongs? Opening him...

Then he would laugh and ask: “ _who is the fag, now, uh_?”

No… He would put it inside his mouth… Suffocate him with it. Xingchen could imagine his face, his agony, his fear: the moment Chao realized he was going to die with a dick inside his mouth, unable to breathe.

Blinking, he shook his head. Anger was a terrible poison, it could destroy a soul. He should forgive his enemies, just like Christ did.

_It_ _i_ _s impossible to forgive them if they never stop_! Xingchen thought, distressed, ashamed of his own imagination.

He put on his clothes and went to the kitchen to drink some tea and eat some cookies, leaving the real food inside the fridge for dinner. Grandma’s cookies were the best but he still craved the ones that were sold at the small market. Those were too expensive, though. When he was a kid he used to steal things from them, all sort of things, but now he wouldn't dare.

It was also a sin.

He put on his hat, hid his crucifix under his sweater and grabbed his coat among other things: his magic cube and the old portable Xiangqi game with a strategy he was trying to solve with the help of a library book. After looking at the book explanation one more time, he went down to the courtyard, the part of it that was roofed.

It was cloudy, but there was still some light and he didn’t have to turn on the single lamp above the table. He spent some time trying to solve the strategy but got bored after an hour. It was getting dark too fast, so he turned on the light. Just to clean his mind, he grabbed his magic cube and began to play with it.

Four sides had the same color, but now it was impossible to make all sides one solid color without messing everything again.

Xingchen let his mind free, the cold air making his nose and mouth a bit dry, but it was slightly more comforting to breathe fresh air. The pain in his ear was getting weaker too.

Putting aside his cube, he tried to analyze the Xiangqi game once more. It was boring to play with himself, because he could predict what his opponent (himself) would do, so he solved that problem arranging the pieces in the ways the books described, trying to find a solution.

After some time, he felt his skin prickle, and noticed something —or someone— was behind him. How he noticed it, he couldn't understand. There was also that smell… A weird smell, as if whatever was behind him had some disease, an infection. Xingchen swallowed and tried to pay more attention to the game.

“What is that?” he heard the voice of a boy.

Without looking back, he just replied, his heart beating a little faster than usual.

“Xiangqi?”

“No, the colored cube...”

Somehow that voice was smooth and tender, with a foreign accent, so he got a bit less nervous.

“This? The magic cube?” He turned and saw a boy who seemed about his age, maybe younger, dressed in a too tight t-shirt, and wearing very old denims. His feet were bare and dirty. Wasn’t he cold?

There was no reply, and Xingchen explained it again. Surely the boy had seen one of these?

“Rubik's Cube? This is the legit one,” he cared to tell the stranger.

“Can I touch it?” the weird boy asked.

“Yes...” replied Xingchen, a bit fascinated by that figure.

The boy grabbed the cube and began to look at it as if it was something extraordinary, not a toy everybody on earth had seen in the last years. His hair was very long, messy and untidy, and it looked very dirty. Maybe that smell came from his hair?

“The purpose is to make all sides a single color. See? I could make only four… This is the authentic one, it’s not easy to cheat disassembling it. My… uh... I got it from a family’s friend.”

“Is it a puzzle?”

“Yes, a puzzle,” answered Xingchen, noticing it was easy to talk to that stranger.

“I love puzzles...” the strange boy said, and sat at the other side of the table. He then looked at the Xiangqi game and moved the red horse.

“You know how to play it? Xiangqi? Wanna play?" he asked, a bit too anxiously. "I have the other pieces here and...”

“No,” the boy interrupted him, still entertained with the magic cube.

“Oh, pity...” Xingchen replied, feeling ashamed.

The boy then looked into his eyes. Dark eyes, gleaming and alluring. He was very handsome, but his face was sad, an ancient expression on a young face.

“We can not be friends… Once again,” he told him.

“ _Once again_?” asked Xingchen, feeling hurt because it was obvious the boy had already noticed he had no friends.

“Yes, once again. We have met before, a long time ago… But you’ll not remember.”

Xingchen didn’t reply this time. It was clear the stranger was a little bit crazy. And wasn’t the boy feeling cold?

“What’s your name?” he asked impulsively, even though he knew he might not answer.

“Yang… You can call me a-Yang.”

“A-Yang, but how can I call you like that if we’re not friends?”

The boy didn’t reply.

Xingchen insisted a bit more:

“If you want, you can borrow it. I mean, the cube, you can play with it and then give me it back tomorrow.”

The boy looked once more into his eyes and smiled. His canines were slightly longer than his other teeth, and they were stained, an unusual brownish color, almost red.

Even though the boy smelled funny, looked dirty, malnourished and too skinny —skinnier than him— Xingchen had never seen someone so attractive in his whole life. Eerie attraction...

“My name is Xingchen...” he told the boy, even though he was not supposed to tell personal facts to strangers.

“What happened to your face? Who did this?” asked the boy, serious with a hint of anger in his eyes.

“Uh, I fell down the stairs.”

“No, you didn’t...”

Even though it was cold, Xingchen felt his face get warm; he wasn’t exactly ashamed of what happened to him, and not angry either. That was awkward.

“You smell funny,” he said suddenly, making a face, to change subjects. Also to see the boy’s reaction to his words.

The young boy lowered his eyes for a moment, and then smiled sadly.

“I guess I do...”

“I have to go...” Xingchen lied, feeling uncomfortable with that boy in front of him, holding his magic cube. He put all the Xiangqi pieces inside the bag, after mentally registering the boy’s move. He would have to think about it. It would be nice to play with that boy, and it would be even nicer if he took a shower first. Or brushed his teeth.

“Here...” Yang was giving the cube to him.

“I told you. You can keep it for a day. Tomorrow you give it back,” he replied, trying to be nice. The boy’s parents were maybe alcoholics and didn’t care about his hygiene.

The boy kept looking at the cube as if it was really something magical.

“Thank you. You live right next to me, I think...” he said, and then looked into Xingchen’s eyes again.

Those eyes. They were so dark as if they had no pupils, and one could get lost inside them.

Pretty boy. Now that he could see him a little better, he didn’t look older than fourteen, but somehow the way he looked at things, that sadness permeating every movement of his... That made him look so much older.

“I will be here tomorrow,” Xingchen replied.

“Nice! Good night then,” said a-Yang, now caressing the cube. His nails were dirty too. Xingchen was accustomed to poor people living in that building, but this boy was too strange, he thought, looking at the new neighbor’s bare feet.

Well, that was not his problem, he had to arrive home before grandma, to lie down with his lights off, asking for dinner in bed. Hopefully she would not want to see how bad his injuries were, still worried about her friend.

As usual, grandma arrived and knocked at the door. Xingchen was under the blanket, in the dark.

“Why didn’t you eat anything? Aren’t you hungry?”

“I felt dizzy… But now I’m getting better,” he replied.

“Are you really sure you don’t need to see a doctor?”

“Yes, I am sure. If I don’t get better tomorrow, we can go to the hospital...”

Grandma was silent for quite some time. Xingchen was very hungry, but he didn’t want to leave his room.

“I will bring something for you, a sandwich maybe? But try not to let anything fall on the bed or floor,” she said.

Sometimes Xingchen asked himself if she knew what was happening to him at school. Most of the times he only thought she was just too busy, worried about his friends from ‘church’, the underground catholic one, whose meetings were considered illegal, subject to persecutions.

In a way, what kept happening to Xingchen at school was nothing compared to what those religious people went through. So he hid what was really happening because he feared it would let his grandmother even more stressed and anxious.

Xingchen sometimes imagined what those boys would do to him if they found out his creed. No, not his, his grandma’s… The way his father disappeared some years ago was still a mystery, and grandma prayed every day for him to return. She still believed he was alive, somewhere. Xingchen tried so hard to believe in God, to think that every human being was protected by Him, especially the ones who asked for His help.

Sometimes, though, it was hard to believe in it, but he kept hoping. Who created the world? Why were human beings more intelligent than the other animals? They were the chosen ones, weren’t they? There was no other explanation. Human beings were not like animals.

Well, some were worse than the most feral ones: animals couldn't do anything against their nature, they were driven by instinct, and they had to survive, but Wen Chao and his gang were just a bunch of humans that didn’t deserve to live. They knew very well what they were doing to him, hurting him on purpose, without any reason.

Grandma came in and gave him a plate with two sandwiches and put a glass of juice on his bedside table.

“Don’t you want to turn the lights on?” she asked, gently.

“Hmmm. My eyes hurt,” he lied. He was lying again, but it was for the best. Grandma would be too worried.

‘You have to go see those eyes. It’s not normal, you may have to use glasses...”

“I will, when I get better,” he said. He also lied about that, he knew too well that his eyes worked perfectly. And wearing glasses? That would make Chao and his gang laugh and bully him even more.

Xingchen slowly ate the sandwiches, noticing his inner ear wasn’t hurting anymore, and when he heard grandma was in the bathroom brushing her teeth, he got up and put the plate and glass on the sink. His eyes were drawn to the small window. Were the lights on, in the new neighbor’s bathroom? He couldn’t see anything.

Once again, he would not help with the dishes, but promised himself to cook for them both and clean the kitchen tomorrow, a Saturday, when grandma would be working all day at the market, and would arrive very tired. He hoped his face would look less ugly by then.

It was so weird that from his kitchen he could see the neighbor’s bathroom… Frowning, he went to bed again. He would brush his teeth when grandma were already snoring on the armchair, her knitting on her lap.

That boy, Yang, he was so… exquisite, his skin was so pale but it glowed. And his eyes! Big eyes, so dark and beautiful. Why would his parents allow him to stay dirty like that? He was not an ordinary boy, he was so clever. The move with the red horse? It was exactly what the book gave as an answer. Strange boy… and he said they have _met before_?

Gulping, Xingchen realized two things at the same time. The first one was that the boy might have been talking about _reincarnation_. Was he a psychic? Reincarnation… He wasn’t supposed to believe in that anymore but in a way it made so much sense. Maybe in the past Xingchen bullied Wen Chao and was now paying for that?

The second thing he realized was that his bedroom was opposite another bedroom, the smallest one, in the apartment next to his. The weird boy’s apartment. So that was the reason he couldn't sleep that well last night?

No, they wouldn't talk in the middle of the night, would they? It was just the pain inside his ear and all over his body that made him wake up so many times.

_Tomorrow I’ll be better_ , he thought, and against his own will he began to imagine what the boy would say about the cube. It was an old toy, he got it when he was twelve, the last gift he got from his godmother, before she died in the hospital.

That dreadful feeling of being alone, alone in the world… His grandma was still working, and was very tough, but one day she would be gone too.

Xingchen doubted his mother would one day come back and rescue him from that place. Grandma said mother found another partner and was living in sin, after leaving them. She used to send birthday cards in the beginning, sometimes chocolate, then cards only. After that came the postcards from other countries. She then stopped sending anything to him after some time. Right now, he and his grandma were alone in the world.

Shaking his head —slowly because of his injured ear— he tried not to think too much. He would begin to work soon, maybe in less than a year, or perhaps he would really get into college. If all those prayers worked, he would get a scholarship. Xingchen wanted to be someone in the future. Someone who nobody would be able to bully or humiliate.

It would be hard, though, to be someone important and totally alone.

At night, he tried not to think too much, otherwise he would have strange dreams or wake up in the middle of the night in panic. Last night, it was a bit easier to sleep, with all those painkillers, but tonight he was already having those anxiety feelings, a need to reach someone and claim forgiveness.

Why would he have to ask for forgiveness?

Oh, yes, he was a coward. His cowardice could be found in every single thing he did. The hidden things under his bed, the thoughts about killing someone, all those sins… Even the way he hid his crucifix inside his backpack and only wore it after arriving home.

There were other things that would make him a coward, and, he feared, for all his life.

Xingchen got up and walked slowly into the bathroom, hearing his grandma snoring in the living room. Brushing his teeth as silently as possible, he looked again at his own reflection in the mirror, wishing to have that weird boy’s look. Nobody would make fun of him or call him a 'homo' if he had that look.

_Too pretty_ … he thought. _I am too pretty_.

He wanted to be strong but fear also kept him from training or trying to find a sport where he could develop more muscles.

_Too feminine_ … the boys used to call him “little girl”.

But that was not true! At least not anymore. He was perfectly fine. He was pretty and defenseless when he was eleven or twelve, but right now he was tall, and if he changed his diet and maybe practiced some sport…

Still in silence he came back to his room, lights still off.

He could try to learn how to swim again. It was hard because of his fears, of that feeling that something would catch his leg and pull him down. The never-ending nightmare he had at least once a month after his father disappeared.

“It is okay, it is okay, I’m going to be seventeen soon and then one year later, eighteen,” he told himself. Old enough to change his life, to become another person.

People changed when they got old, didn’t they?

“Everything will be fine, I will be okay, I will be okay...”

Repeating that before sleep was comforting. Xingchen was almost sleeping when he started to hear some voices, at the other side of the wall.

The neighbor’s room.

They were arguing.

He could hear a word or two, but nothing made sense. A man was angry, it seemed. Strangely, he could not hear the boy’s voice. What Xingchen understood from what the adult was saying, was that the boy was asking him to take care of something, something he could not do by himself.

Already too alert to sleep and very curious, he pressed his left ear, the one which was fine, next to the wall. Trying to hear better he cupped his hand to his ear.

“ _I can’t do it anymore, it is breaking me, making me weak, you know exactly what I mean..._ ” a grown up, a man, was saying and then Xingchen heard him crying.

Whispers… And Xingchen knew it was a-Yang who was whispering. That strange feeling on his skin came back.

Was the man being comforted?

For a second, Xingchen thought the boy was in danger but then he heard:

“ _I love you so much, please don’t leave me..._ ”

This time he couldn't hear anything, not even whispers.

He was almost giving up when he heard:

“ _Please… Help me_ ,” the adult was begging.

Was it the boy’s father? His guardian? Was the man drunk? He didn’t sound normal. Why would a grown up ask a boy to not leave him?

Well, a normal guardian or father wouldn't let his son or ward walk with his feet bare, and without proper clothes in that cold weather. A normal person wouldn't let a boy get so dirty.

Yet… it seemed like the adult there was Yang, not the other way around.

He got under his blankets again, trying to forget the neighbors' drama. Somehow knowing that there were people in worse conditions than his made Xingchen feel a little better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was not revised or betaed, please let me know of any mistakes, I would be happy to know how to write it better. You can leave a comment, I won't care! I like to be better. You can also leave any criticism, and I would not be sad or angry (maybe I will delete it if I change the text or disagree with it).
> 
> You can find me at Twitter also. I'm @zuzuisanalien there!


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